So sorry for the late update but I got into writing my other story. But better late than never. This was supposed to be combined with the next chapter but I felt it worked better to let them stand on their own.
Hope you enjoy.
She stood there, dumbfounded, for what felt like an eternity. She'd spent so much time and energy looking for Brittany over the past year and right when and where she wasn't the least bit expecting to find her, there she was. She felt a tug on her arm and remembered there were others watching them, others waiting for some kind of reaction.
Santana tore her eyes away from Brittany's and looked to the girls surrounding them. Two girls were smiling and had carried on with the previous conversation but others were anxiously awaiting Santana's reaction. They were probably just waiting for her to blow up and insult the blonde like she normally would. Santana's eyes found Kitty's and the shorter blonde glared at her in warning. Santana scoffed because although she desperately wanted to tell the girl to go fix her make-up to hide her masculine features she couldn't do it here. She couldn't let Brittany see that side of her. Santana was afraid that Brittany would take back all the nice things she'd said about her during their first meeting. And more than anything she knew having Brittany think she was a bitch would hurt more than she wanted to acknowledge.
When her eyes returned to Brittany she found a playful grin present on the blondes soft features. Her eyes sparkled with something Santana wanted to name as recognition. Did Brittany remember her? If she did what did that mean? Santana might get more than a few odd stares if she followed through with any of her internally rehearsed romantic run in scenarios with Brittany that she's dreamt up in the coffee shop in Soho. If she admitted remembering the blonde here she would have to explain herself to everyone present. And if she said that she remembered Brittany from over a year ago from one shared taxi ride they would think she was insane. She never paid that close attention to anyone. And it would just cause her friends to make rash assumptions on Santana's feelings towards the blonde. And even though those assumptions would pale in comparison to Santana's reality she couldn't let the rumours get even that far.
And what if Brittany didn't remember? She'd be seen as pathetic. It'd been a year. A whole year. A lot of time had passed since they'd met. Brittany no longer lived in New York. She was in a relationship with a guy Santana could only assume was the same dude she'd been dating all along.
What was Brittany going to do if Santana followed through with her delusional daydreams? Was she going to leave her long-term relationship and move all the way back from wherever she'd built her new life in?
Not fucking likely.
If Santana told Brittany how much she thought of the blonde and how often she frequented Soho in hopes of seeing her once more, or even mentioned one of the many daydreams she'd had of her she was sure Brittany would either laugh or run away terrified and creeped out, or maybe both.
Paul was Puck's good friend and Brittany was Marley's maid of honour and they were dating. They shared the same friends with Santana. They were in a long-term relationship. They had a life together. Brittany had a life with him, outside of New York now and there was no way for Santana to squeeze herself into Brittany's life like she'd been dreaming of. There was no way she could get rid of this Paul guy that Santana suddenly found so revolting. Brittany and Paul were an item and shared close friends and a life and probably had similar interests and political views and, everything. They were each others everything. There was no worse alternate universe version of this outcome. It was hopeless to continue thinking, no dreaming, of ways in which she could call the blonde hers.
She couldn't. She'd lost her chance over a year ago.
"Nice to meet you." Santana politely spoke as she extended her right hand towards Brittany. Santana quickly convinced herself the disappointed glimmer that took over Brittany's face briefly was all a part of her imagination.
"You too." Brittany softly spoke before taking Santana's hand.
Instantly a familiar, yet almost forgotten, warmth enveloped Santana's whole arm. She released a shaky breath and felt every muscle in her body relax at once. She knew she held into the handshake a little longer than was called for but she didn't know when she was going to feel that again and she wanted to memorize it in case that was the last time she'd experience it.
"Uh, well thanks." Brittany smiled wide. "For agreeing to let me stay with you for a few weeks." Her smile dropped and her features were taken over by a frown. "I know it's inconvenient to let a complete stranger into your home, especially on such short notice."
Santana waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's not that big of deal." She ignored the incredulous stares of the other girls at her comment and was grateful that they were all standing behind Brittany now so she at least remained oblivious.
"Maybe not for you." Her smile was back and the same strange glint was in her eyes. "But I greatly appreciate your kindness."
Santana's eyes widened as Kitty began to snicker and closed her eyes in embarrassment when the girl spoke.
"Santana, kind?" Her snickering turned into a full-out laugh and a few of the others around joined in. "Satan here doesn't have a kind bone in her body. Except for when she's trying to get into her next conquests pants."
Santana prayed that Brittany didn't remember their first encounter. She prayed, for the first time, that she hadn't made half the impact on Brittany as Brittany had on her. Her taxi Brittany said she would have went on a date with Santana in a heartbeat. This Brittany was about to learn how undeserving Santana was of that comment. Santana would prefer Brittany not remember the belief in Santana's good side that she voiced a year ago. She'd rather a clean slate Brittany think ill of her opposed to her taxi Brittany changing her mind.
"And even then the niceties don't last long before Queen Bitch is back on the floor." Another of the girls spoke up and Santana forced her eyes open to try and play off how much she disliked this conversation. She looked everywhere but at the beautiful blonde in front of her.
"Floor? Don't you mean the bed?" A brunette that Santana barely knew decided to join in. "Isn't Santana the fuck-'em-and-leave-'em kind?" She shrugged. "Wouldn't take much longer after getting her way to revert back to her hell-fire attitude."
Santana blanched. Normally she would shrug off the insults and throw a half-hearted comment about how most of the time the pain of being nice wouldn't be worth the little pleasure the skanks gave her. Or would smugly accept the insult as a compliment. But Brittany was right there. She was not five feet away from her and even though Santana wasn't looking at her she could feel the frown she wore in the way she stood. These were the last things Santana wanted Brittany to know. Most of them weren't even true. She'd charmed her way into girls beds before but she'd never turned around and kicked the girls out right after. She'd always been at least partially grateful for the experience. She certainly never hurt any girls feelings after the fact. But that's how they were portraying her. As a manipulator.
What if Brittany did remember their taxi ride? She'd believe that Santana was only being nice in hopes of getting Brittany into bed with her. She immediately became enraged. If by some slim chance Santana made a positive impression on the blonde and she remembered it who were these girls to ruin that image Brittany had of her.
"Look here you f-" she cut herself off and looked to Brittany for the first time in several minutes. Her eyes were wide in surprise, probably scared by Santana's voice level and menacing tone. If she took the bait she'd prove the girls right in their assessment that all she was was an angry bitch. "You know what? I'm going to let that go because this is Puck's wedding and I'm feeling generous."
She turned and made a beeline for where she remembered leaving Quinn. She never, in a million years. would have thought that minutes after finding Brittany again she would be walking briskly away from her. She forced her eyes ahead and her feet to keep moving. When she arrived back at the flowered arch she didn't have to look very hard to find her blonde friend talking to Puck.
She approached them and punched Puck in the shoulder without a second thought. "Hey, Loser. So how does it feel to be tied down to one woman for the entire rest of your life? No more partying or working the crowded bar scene or any of that fun stuff ever again." She knew she was being over dramatic but she still held a slight grudge against him for getting married before her. She knew it was irrational and petty but she couldn't help it, especially after seeing Brittany again, knowing she was more unattainable with her long-term boyfriend, than she ever was in Santana's dreams.
"Feels kind of perfect actually." He smiled and stared in the direction Santana came from and she knew he was looking at his wife.
"Ugh, can you be any more whipped?" She punched him again making him wince, she knew she had killer aim and had hit him in the same spot as the first. "You're pathetic."
"Ow! Jesus, Santana lay off."
"You're Jewish remember." She smirked and hit him one last time.
"Really? Quinn, seriously can't you at least try to control her?" He turned his attention to the other girl who'd done nothing but observe the interaction so far. "Who even let her out of her damn cage?"
"That would be you for inviting her. It's not my fault you didn't think things through properly." Quinn responded breezily.
He glared between the two of them several times before throwing up his hands in defeat. "Why do I even try with you two? You always take each others sides over mine. Even on my wedding day apparently."
Although Quinn was working against her earlier and Santana was sure she'd continue to provoke her later they had always had an unspoken agreement that when Puck was involved, no matter how pissed at each other they were, they'd always ban together against him. It was just the way it was.
Santana smirked before leaning towards Puck. He flinched and she laughed while bringing her arms around him in a hug. He soon realized that she wasn't meaning to cause further harm and brought his arms around her slim frame to embrace her completely.
"Congrats Dipshit." He smiled at her knowing she meant it as a term of endearment and she returned the gesture wholeheartedly, even if she was a tiny bit bitter still. She turned to Quinn who was smirking at the two of them. "Let's go. I'm starving and need to get out of this sun. Boy am I not looking forward to Jake's day. It's going to be insanely hot if this is what Spring feels like."
They all laughed once more and hugs were given once again before Santana and Quinn were able to make their exit. Just as they were reaching the edge of the parking lot, Santana felt a tickling sensation on the back of her neck. She tried to ignore it but the further from the wedding she moved the stronger the sensation became. She glanced behind her as she stepped from the grass to the asphalt. Her eyes immediately found the exact ones she was trying to avoid. Brittany was watching her depart and Santana felt actual guilt at how little attention she'd given the blonde. It wasn't something she was particularily able to control. She was still confused and being observed by so many people she wanted to fear her had thrown her off a little.
But just as Santana was about to turn around and continue on to her car Brittany raised a hand and waved at her. Santana found herself reciprocating the friendly gesture, not caring who saw.
xxx
It was hours later when Santana strode through the doors of the reception hall. She'd changed out of her tight green sleeveless dress into a red one that flowed around her curves instead of clinging to them. The night cooled slightly from the unbearable heat the afternoon had brought, but it had turned humid. Santana tried on three dresses before she'd settled on the one she now wore, every other option stifling her after only moments of putting them on.
She looked around at the room full of people chatting and laughing. A dance floor was set up on one side and couples as well as groups were twirling and swaying to the beats the band were playing from their raised stage against the wall. The other side of the hall tables were set up with white cloths covering them. Candles in stain glassed holders were set ablaze causing rays of different colours to paint the tables beneath them. People occupied these spots as well, eating food and snacks from the beautifully set up dishes along the furthest wall.
Looking towards the food Santana smiled. She made her way around a few couples and stepped up to the counter that had caught her attention. A cute redhead looked up when Santana leaned forward resting her forearms on the wood top separating them. Santana rose one side of her mouth in a smirk she knew would get the others attention. The girl nearly dropped the glass in her hands and stood blushing at Santana through her lashes.
When the girl remained frozen Santana's smile widened and the girl's mouth dropped open at Santana's blatant flirting. Santana knew it was harmless on her part, she wasn't about to do anything with the girl. But at the end of the night when a rational bartender would be cutting her off this girl may be swayed into continuing to supply her with much needed drinks. It was a win-win for everyone involved.
She ordered a drink and strummed her nails on the counter separating them when she remained frozen. The noise snapped the girl out of the stupor she was in and she spun away from Santana to quickly mix her drink.
"Unbelievable." Santana didn't have to turn around to know that her blonde best friend was frowning disapprovingly behind her.
"Upset that I'm into the alcohol so early?" Santana asked as she accepted the drink from the redhead, smiling wide once more. She took a sip through the green straw before turning to face Quinn, knowing liquid courage was needed for the task. She only wished that Quinn stayed oblivious to her entrance long enough for her to down a full glass before the confrontation.
"No, actually I've been keeping an eye on this side of the room since I arrived, knowing it would be your first stop." Quinn smirked, hands on her hips. She'd also obviously opted to wear a cooler version of her normal dresses. Where most of her dresses seemed to be made of thick fabric or multiple layers this one was thin and strapless. The yellow material looked soft but shimmered in the lights from the multicoloured candles around them. She approved the look for once. "And I'm more interested in why you are over two hours late."
"I'm flattered that you know me so well and that you've been spending your time watching for me." She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at the taller girl. "If I didn't know you were completely straight I'd be a little creeped out by your stalkerish tendancies." She couldn't help the smirk that was a result of Quinn's exasperated scoff. "But I can totally see the reason for your wandering eyes." She shrugged and dipped her head to take another drink from her glass, looking pointedly over Quinn's shoulder. Quinn narrowed her eyes at Santana and looked about to speak. "Hey Pufferfish! How's it hanging?"
"Always a pleasure Santana." Chad responded as he placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder and kissed her temple in greeting. Quinn smiled and leaned into him. Santana nearly gagged.
Chad wasn't a bad guy, she supposed. He was decent looking, but his spiked hair annoyed her, hence the nickname and he wasn't all that tall. Quinn was almost the same height as him with her heels and it just looked odd. But he'd never cheated on her or done anything to truly hurt her, and Santana would know as she looked deep, for months, for any dirty little secrets hidden in his closets. She'd come up clean, and if she couldn't find anything than it was pretty obvious that the dude had nothing to hide. He was both the only good guy Quinn had dated and not deserving of her in the least. But then again, Santana was always a girl with high standards, even more so for her friends than herself, so it didn't come as a surprise when Chad wasn't exactly welcomed with open arms.
"Come on, lets go sit down." Quinn spoke up. She turned and Chad jumped to follow. Like give her no space, that's attractive. Santana turned to the bar again and ordered another drink even though the one in her hand was still half full. She needed another one if she was going to live through even five minutes of Quinn and Chad's lovey dovey display.
She could hear Quinn telling Chad that they'd catch up with him and he left to keep a table open for them. "I was more worried at your late entrance before, but now I actually suspect somethings up." Santana felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She responded cooly as she winked at the redhead and turned to walk briskly past Quinn and made her way to Chad sitting at a table in the corner of the room. She silently approved of his choice of seating. Quinn's quick steps were heard behind her and she caught up just as Santana was sliding into one of the chairs against the wall. Quinn sat in the chair across from her and stared at her in painful observation. Santana worked hard to avoid her gaze and was actually grateful when Chad stole some of the blonde's attention. She guessed he wasn't that bad afterall.
She quickly finished her first drink and pushed it to the middle of the table before bringing her full drink to rest in front of her. She continued to avoid Quinn's frequent probing looks by looking interested in the others in attendance. She spotted Puck and most of the bridal party when her gaze wandered to the head table Puck spotted her at the same time and lifted his own glass in salute. She smirked and inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement.
She found her eyes drawn to a few couples mingling behind the head table over Puck's right shoulder and she immediately wished she'd kept her eyes moving.
But once her eyes found her there was no way to tear them away. She, like almost all the women in attendance, had changed from the dress she'd worn that afternoon. She now wore a pale blue dress. It was completely different from the earlier one in that it was more flowing than form fitting and yet fit her perfectly. Santana was thankful that this dress was slightly longer because there was no way Santana could take seeing that much leg from the blonde.
Brittany's hair was pulled up into a messy but elegant bun at the back of her head. A few strands curled perfectly down her neck, seemingly accidental, and it might have been if Santana didn't think she looked perfect. The loose tendrils framing her face as well looked far too good to have been mistakenly missed.
There was no way anyone could look that beautiful without a ton of effort put in on their part. But then Santana thought of a year ago and how Brittany looked when she was soaked from the rain and make-up washed away. It was entirely possible that Brittany was just naturally and easily flawless.
She watched, pained, as Brittany threw her head back and laughed at something Marley said and the sound wasn't enough to travel to her own ears. It sliced at her already open wound as Paul wrapped his arm around her waist and said something into her ear and she laughed again.
But she couldn't look away. A year and a bit she'd spent trying to force the image of the blonde from slipping through her mental fingers. At times she thought she lost her, others she thought her mind was exaggerating her beauty. She'd been so scared of forgetting Brittany's face and smile that even though it physically hurt her to watch Brittany with Paul she couldn't look away.
Her attention was finally drawn from Brittany when she felt a hand cover her own on the table. She met Quinn's concerned eye as she called Santana's name.
"Yeah?" She asked and mentally shook herself out of the state watching Brittany, happy with someone other than herself, brought on.
"I called your name three times." She felt a squeeze on her hand. "You okay?"
She pulled her hand away before responding. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" She took a long gulp from her straw. "I have myself a drink, the musics not all that bad and the company's pretty good," she looked to Chad who smiled at her comment, "Male persuasion excluded of course. Why would I be anything but amazing?"
"Well I don't know. That's just it though." Quinn huffed. "You have been acting off all day. I know you're not a fan of weddings in general, but this is odd, even for you." Quinn leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "You've been distracted by something."
Santana forced her eyes to remain on Quinn and not to shoot directly over to Brittany. She knew exactly what was distracting her but she didn't want Quinn to know, not yet at least. She never could keep things from Quinn for very long, partially because of the blondes persistance and partially because she was Santana's only resource to vent to.
"I'm fine, seriously. I'm just stressed from work." She lied. It seemed to placate her friend for the time being.
"You won the last case did you not?" Chad asked and Santana smiled at him.
"Yes I did, obviously." She smirked and Quinn rolled her eyes. "But that just opened up tons of other future stressors." Thinking about it made her head pound so she did what any sane girl would do, she tried to forget it. She gulped down the remaining liquid in her glass and looked to the bar.
"What do you mean?" Quinn asked but instead of answering her Santana stood and made her way over to the redheaded bartender once more. Again she heard Quinn follow her.
She was able to shake her empty glass at the girl indicating a refill before Quinn caught up with her. Knowing there was no way she was going to avoid this conversation she turned and leaned her elbows on the bar behind her and faced her persistent friend.
"So, are you going to answer me? What's up with you? What's going on at work?" Quinn's hands made their way to her hips and Santana was thrown back in time to their cheerleading days. It had been awhile since she forced Quinn into her Head Cheerleader, no nonsense, persona.
"It's fine." Santana sighed. "Just... Mr. Brackand is retiring at the end of the summer."
"And? How does that add stress to you?" Quinn questioned as she dropped her arms. "It might add to your workload but the firm hasn't ever had problems replacing it's Lawyers before have they?"
"No, but Mr. Brakand is a partner, an old fart at that, but a partner none-the-less."
"So..."
"So," Santana drew out, "They will be looking to replace him. They're looking for another partner." When Quinn still didn't seem to be catching on she rolled her eyes. "And after my win this past week and my track record over the last couple years-"
"Oh my God!" Quinn squealed as she jumped on the spot a little bit, obviously on the same page as Santana at last. "You're kidding right?"
"Afraid not. There's been rumours for a couple of months of his retirement and hints were laid out awhile ago that if I succeeded in this case something beneficial would be coming my way." She turned around and grabbed her finished drink before turning back to Quinn. "I have a meeting with the partners next week."
"What?" Santana only had enough time to hold her drink away from her body before she was attacked. Quinn wrapped her arms around her middle and let another squeal escape her lips. Santana laughed at the feeling and seeing her so well put together best friend lose some of her composure; it was a rare sight.
"Why are you not more excited for this?" Quinn asked as she took a step back, releasing her. Her eyes still sparkled with excitement though. "This is a good thing right?"
"Of course it is." Santana nodded taking a gulp of her drink. "It's just..." Santana bit her bottom lip. "I've worked my ass of, especially this last year."
"But this was the point of all that right?" Quinn interrupted. "This is what Lawyers work for isn't it? To become partner?"
"Yes, I suppose." Santana started walking back to their table when the bartender, who's name remained a mystery, set another glass on the bar. Santana smiled and grabbed the second glass before continuing on. Quinn matched her steps, this time walking beside her. "It's just that I've wondered, when does it stop?"
"Stop?"
"Yeah, I mean I've worked my ass off and now with the title of partner being dangled in front of me I'm going to have to work harder. And it will only get worse, with more responsibilities, if or when I do make partner." Santana stopped before they got within hearing distance of Chad. "I just want to know when it all stops. When is it going to feel worth it? Because I've worked for this, this exact moment, for so long and when it started to become a reality I felt nothing. There was no relief or grande feeling of accomplishment."
"This is a good thing Santana." Quinn placed a comforting hand on her arm. "You should be happy, and proud."
"I know."
She didn't say that she didn't feel those things because she knew Quinn would know without her having to say it. She should be excited, she should be rubbing her success in everyone's faces, but for the first time she didn't want to. It was just another thing in her life, one that she worked for and one that would require her to work harder for in the near future. It wasn't that she wasn't up for the challenge, she knew there was nothing standing in her way of getting partner. She wasn't worried or holding back her excitement until the decision was final because no one else at the firm had the same track record as she had. No one else had as many wins as she did. No one else had as much press surrounding them as she had. It was all but guaranteed.
But what was the point? She was still spending all her time at the office. She barely even saw her friends; it had been two weeks since she'd even talked to Quinn. It had been over two months since she'd been on anything resembling a date. When she did leave the office it was to return to her apartment to sleep for a few hours before leaving once again. She'd once been thankful of the silence her apartment had given her but lately she hated going there. If she could live at the office she would. Her apartment wasn't home to her, it was a place she crashed. It didn't give her any comfort. It was empty.
And that's what she'd been struggling with over the past year. Ever since she learned of Puck's impending wedding and, if she was completely honest with herself, since Brittany walking into her life, she hated how lonely her life actually was.
She used to spend a lot of her time with her friends but that just caused her more heartache as she saw them interacting with or heard them speak of their significant others. They were happy and in love and never had to spend a single night, sitting in a quiet, empty, room begging to fall asleep soon, lest the silence drive them insane.
No matter what she did in her work life, no matter how far she advanced up that ladder, nothing would change the fact that she was returning home each night to a cold, unwelcoming apartment.
The rest of the night consisted of Quinn dropping all serious conversations and getting Santana to relax. She even made sure that Santana's glass was never empty. Santana tried to focus on her friend, she knew Quinn was worried about her and she really wanted Quinn to believe her fussing was helping. To be honest she probably owed her semi-content feeling to the alcohol more than she did to Quinn. But since Quinn was supplying her with the drinks she could definitely take the credit.
She obviously came in contact with Brittany during the night. She'd been approached by Paul into her fifth glass, that was her only time tracker, and he expressed his gratitude to her allowing Brittany to stay with her. When Brittany literally skipped, who does that, over to join him all Santana could think was how the hell could he be okay with her staying anywhere without him for even a single night. If Brittany was hers, she'd never let her out of her sight. Santana politely waved off the gratitude and smiled as she made an excuse to mingle with her highschool friends she hadn't seen in months. She'd practically tackled Mercedes in her rush to get away from the sight of Paul and Brittany's physical closeness.
She watched Brittany throughout the night. She mingled with the guests and from the few conversations she was close enough to overhear she noted that Brittany was just as nice to everyone as she had been to her that night in the cab. It made her heart swell at the same time it felt like it was shattering. She knew Brittany was good, like unbelievably good, and she felt a pride in knowing that; pride in knowing she'd once been the receiver of that kindness. But it shattered her heart as well because it meant that maybe the time spent in the cab wasn't as special to Brittany as it had been to her. Santana had felt such a special connection with Brittany at the time and she never felt that for anyone in her life. But Brittany seemed to have the same kind of connections with everyone. Knowing that their time may not have been as special to Brittany as it had been for her pained her in a way she couldn't even describe.
The drinks were steady and when she was eight glasses in she knew she should slow down. It was about this time when Quinn finally succeeded in dragging Santana onto the dance floor. Santana had long since realized how Brittany affected her and she, with the help of alcohol, had been able to soften the edges of her feelings when she looked at the blonde. It had been two glasses since she realized that although Brittany's presence affected her it had stopped surprising her. She knew that her heart was going to hammer in her chest, she knew that her breath was going to catch so she was able to compose herself, as much as a drunk version of herself could.
She wasn't prepared for the reaction that came next. She thought every reaction had been covered but when the bodies shifted and Brittany became visible for the first time on the dance floor Santana's whole body froze. Her heart didn't just hammer in her chest it actually stopped. When if started up again she had to gasp. She didn't even care that Paul was the one holding her hand or had his other on her hip. She didn't even process the way she was smiling at him. She only watched her. The way her body moved, the way her dress lifted as she was spun, showing the skin that Santana was grateful was once covered. The arch of her neck and the look of pure happiness that showed in her eyes and on her face.
Perfection.
And she felt her knees weaken and her hands began to shake. She left Quinn alone on the dance floor and made her way directly to the bar. The redhead she still didn't know the name of turned to immediately make her drink upon seeing her. Santana knew the flirting would come in handy. She arrived at the bar just as the girl was setting her drink down, smiling widely at Santana.
"Can I get a couple shots of that as well?" Santana asked and added "Beautiful," when she noticed the questioning look on her face. She frowned and looked around for whomever her boss was and then turned and poured a few ounces of straight liquor in to a small glass and set it beside the other drink. There must have been at least three shots worth of alcohol in the glass but Santana didn't hesitate to lift it and down the entire contents. She needed to stop her hands from trembling.
She allowed Quinn to drag her from the bar a few minutes later when she realized Santana had disappeared from the dance floor. They both sat down at their, self designated, table and talked about old times. Santana was thankful for the distraction and over the next few hours she even lost count of what glass she was on.
She realized that time was beginning to skip, one moment she was on the dance floor and couldn't remember how she got there and the other she was seeing how many crème puffs she could stuff into Puck's mouth. She couldn't remember the number and was sure she double counted many of them. The next thing she realized was that she was sitting on a bench outside of the hall and there were way too many loud voices around her. Her skin felt hot and she didn't know if that was due to the alcohol or if the night really hadn't cooled down.
She caught a few words from the voices near her and couldn't even focus enough to figure out who the voices belonged too. She giggled pretending she was a kid in Charlie Brown and the voices were the adults. That explained why she couldn't focus or understand them. She stopped laughing when the realization that Charlie Brown and his friends seemed to be able to understand the adults just fine, so if she was in the cartoon wouldn't she be able to understand them as well?
She shook her head as the confusion settled in and made her head throb.
She didn't know she had said anything until a body was kneeling beside her, hand resting on her knee. "What was that?" Santana lifted her head and stared at a familiar set of hazel eyes.
"I'm not like Charlie Brown." Her voice came out high-pitched and then suddenly she was crying. Why was it she always turned emotional with alcohol? It wasn't fair. All she'd wanted was to have a good time, pester her old classmates and let loose until the stress of the next weeks meeting took over. But then she had to happen. "It's not fair." She heard a voice resembling her own say.
"I know sweetie." she felt hands on her face as the tears were wiped away before her hair was pushed behind her ears. She felt a light touch to the top of her head as, the person she was sure was Quinn, rose. "We're going to get you home, okay?" Santana nodded her head. Her cool bed sheets sounded like a good idea. She suddenly felt tired.
Some murmured conversation occurred and Santana wondered who Quinn was speaking to before Quinn's voice spoke up again, almost pleadingly.
"There's no problem with tonight. It will be fine."
"Don' put off t'day what you can do t'morra'." Santana quipped seriously, trying to be involved in the discussion. She was right there afterall; it was rude to exclude her. She felt the tears about to spill again and she sniffed loudly. But instead of sobs she began to laugh loudly realizing what she had said. "I meanted, don't put off t'morra what you can do t'day," her laughter slowed again, "or t'night. Is night, right?"
The sound of someone elses laughter caused her to smile widely. It sounded nice, like all the rainbows and puppies and bread sticks in the world all packed into one amazing sound.
"See?" She heard Quinn's voice.
"See what?" she asked.
"Not you Santana." That wasn't nice, she was leaving her out of the conversation again. "And don't pout, it's annoying."
"I think it's cute." She knew that voice but she couldn't place it in her memory. All she knew was that it sounded almost as good as the rainbow, puppy, bread stick laugh, and that it was on her side.
She nodded her head pointedly at Quinn, who sighed loudly for some reason. "All your stuff is already here, there is no sense in you taking it back to Puck's just to lug it all over in the morning."
"Maybe, you're right. I just don't want to get in the way if she's not feeling well or anything." Santana started humming, she hummed when she was happy and that voice made her happy. Wasn't she crying a minute ago? It happened again, she couldn't remember the last few minutes and had lost interest in the conversation except to listen to the voices, or one in particular.
"I'd feel better if someone was there actually."
"Worry wart," Santana blurted, resorting to her childhood nickname for her friend, "worry fart." She finished and smiled widely up at Quinn. "Re-" she hicoughed, "-memembers?"
"Yes, Santana I remember." But then her attention was drawn to another body beside her. Must be the owner of the other voice. It was weird, she hadn't thought of the voice having a body before, which was silly of course, unless the voice was coming from a ghost. "Please? I'll come over first thing in the morning but I have a few guests that decided Santana was a good influence and I can't leave them all to Chad to look after."
"Alright, I guess she shouldn't be left alone in this state. I wouldn't feel right at this point anyway."
"Great!" She watched as Quinn turned and winced as she raised her voice. "Chad can you take these to the car?"
There was a few more words spoken but none of the voices were the good sounding one so Santana tuned them out.
"Wake up Sweetie." Santana fluttered her eyes open when she felt a hand on her cheek. She looked around her in confusion. They were in a car, when did she get into a car? "You're home."
She didn't recognize anything around her but she trusted Quinn not to leave her laying in some random alley. It was something they might think up to do to Kitty, but never to each other. SHe let Quinn guide, or practically carry, her into the elevator of her apartment building and down the hall to her door. She couldn't seem to get her legs to work. Jelly legs. She was too tired to really care about anything at that moment but was aware of another person following them into her apartment.
Quinn directed Santana immediately to her room where she helped her out of her dress and into a tank top and shorts. Santana didn't know why Quinn was the one grumbling, she was the one trying to sleep as the other girl poked and prodded and pulled at her body. Finally Quinn left, leaving her door ajar, slightly letting some light into the room from the hallway. The last thing she heard before falling asleep was a quiet conversation coming from the other room and then her front door closing and hearing the lock click into place.
She wasn't sure how much longer it was when she was woken by a noise close to her head. She blinked back the fogginess in her eyes and saw a glass on her nightstand, water in it still shifting. The next thing she saw was a hand placing some pills beside the glass. Santana groaned at the scratchy feeling in her throat but couldn't find the energy to move or sit up to drink the water at the moment.
She felt the bed dip as someone sat down. She closed her eyes and hummed as she felt fingers running through her hair, massaging her scalp. It eased some of the throbbing in her head and she buried herself further into her pillow and drifted off again. She didn't even bother wondering who the person had been.
She next woke up from a coughing fit. It jolted her awake and the tears in her eyes burned as sleep was ripped from her. She noted how rough her throat felt and reached for the nightstand. She briefly wondered why there was a glass of water and how she knew it was there even before seeing it but didn't question too hard as the semi-warm liquid slipped passed her lips. It took a few swallows before the pain of her throat subsided and she reached to place the glass back where she got it. It was then that she noticed a couple of Advil sitting in the same spot. She felt the strumming in her skull and could only imagine it was growing worse from the coughing and grabbed the two pills and downed the rest of the water in the glass before laying down once more and drifting off for some more much needed sleep.
it was light when she woke for the last time and she winced at the sunlight leaking through her curtains. Her head pounded mercilessly and she sat up carefully once her eyes became less sensitive to the light. She wasn't sure how hung over she was and although she rarely was sick she didn't trust any sharp movements. Her left hand shot out to the nightstand and grabbed the glass that was there, without her looking. She switched the glass to her right hand without thinking and reached out to grab the pills that were there, popping them into her mouth immediately and chasing them with many gulps of the water in the glass. She got a slight deja vu feeling as she finished the task and couldn't help but think she'd questioned the presense of the items once before.
She tried to think of the night before and could only remember bits and pieces. She knew she'd attended Puck's wedding and reception. But other than that everything was fuzzy. She was sure her flashes of memory involving someone sneaking into her room, multiple times throughout the night, to brush the hair out of her face or to rub her back were dreams if anything. She lived alone, no one would be sneaking into her room.
She slowly moved into a standing position and leaned on her nightstand to stay upright as she swayed. The throbbing in her head increased as her system tried to pump blood to her still useless brain and limbs.
She needed to text Quinn and ask what the hell happened last night. But first, she needed coffee pronto.
She walked down the hall and into her kitchen and groaned as the light from her bay window hit in on her face. She couldn't remember opening the blinds but that wasn't important at the moment. She took a step towards the coffee pot but jumped back as a noise by her stove scared her. She looked up after realizing nothing was attacking her and saw a frying pan on the stove top. She knew she hadn't left it there because she never ate in her apartment if she could help it. She certainly never cooked here. She could see the handle of the pan bobbing up and down and realized that was the noise she heard; it was the pan being set down, or dropped onto the stove.
Her immediate reaction was to look for whomever placed the pan on the stove. She was surprised to see pair of pale legs beside her stove and realized she was still partially drunk as she wasn't able to process nearly as fast as she needed at the moment.
Her eyes traveled up the legs to shorts and tank top that was not unlike her own attire and then to the intruder's face. She literally stumbled when her right knee gave out at the sight of ice-blue eyes that were studying her. She internally cursed her buzzing nerves for her jittery state. But before she could hit the ground she felt a pair of hands wrap around her midsection and steady her. When she looked up she was met with the smiling face of Brittany.
What the hell was she doing here and what in the world happened last night?
Hope you liked it :)